


Prayer 1

by mmouse15



Series: Prayer of St. Francis [1]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-31
Updated: 2008-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-02 10:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12725013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/pseuds/mmouse15
Summary: In December 2008, the Livejournal community ProwlxJazz held a challenge based off the first six lines of the prayer of St. Francis. This is the first line, hate/love.





	Prayer 1

__Prayer of St. Francis  
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,  
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;  
where there is injury, pardon;  
where there is doubt, faith;  
where there is despair, hope;  
where there is darkness, light;  
where there is sadness, joy;  
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;  
to be understood as to understand;  
to be loved as to love.  
For it is in giving that we receive;  
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;  
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life. 

 

Title: St. Francis Prayer 1  
By: mmouse15  
Rating: PG  
Warnings: implied intimacy, slash  
**Edit A/N: I'm gonna give credit here to eerian-sadow for the idea that Prowl and Jazz hated each other at first. She is mostly the source for me of that particular idea, and I want you to be able to go read her wonderful stories if you like Prowl and Jazz.**

 

Spike hovered in the entryway, trying to stay against the wall where he wouldn't get flattened by giant robots not paying attention to the human in their medbay.  
"Sunstreaker, good, put him over there. He's stable and can wait. Swoop!" Wheeljack was in fine form, triage going quickly. Swoop was working on mechs with minor injuries, patching armour and repairing fried wires. First Aid was working on more severe cases, patching leaking energon and coolant lines. Ratchet was quietly working on the worst cases with Perceptor aiding him, running for supplies and equipment as needed. Ratchet was checking in on 'Jack frequently, who was mostly doing triage and working on bad but easily fixed cases. The battle had been long and drawn-out, and for the first time since they had come out of stasis on Earth the medical team had to patch mechs up and send them back out to the battlefield. Spike was here to find out how Bumblebee was doing, the little yellow 'bot having taken a bad hit from one of the Seekers and leaking profusely from one leg. Spike was worried because First Aid and not Swoop was working on his friend.  
Optimus Prime stuck his head in the door of the medbay. "Ratchet."  
"Prime," was the response. Ratchet didn't even look up from his work.  
"Megatron finally called a retreat." Prime told him. A visible wave of relief spread through the room. Spike breathed his own sigh of relief.  
"Took him long enough," was Ratchet's opinion, "perhaps now we can catch up with ourselves."  
Prime withdrew and soon thereafter, Bluestreak arrived with a stack of energon cubes for the medics and their assistants. Ratchet slammed his down, and Spike was impressed at the speed of the medic's consumption. The engineer moved over to help First Aid, who was working on Bumblebee. A quiet exchange later, Bumblebee was moved to a berth with an energon feed. Spike was worried – one of Bumblebee's legs was graying from lack of energon.  
The medbay rapidly cleared now that there were no new mechs adding to the queue, and soon Spike felt that he could move over to the berth where his friend lay. Perceptor saw him and came over to him.  
"Would you like me to lift you, Spike?"  
"Yeah Percy, that would be nice." Perceptor gently scooped him up and placed him near Bumblebee's shoulder.  
"Hey, buddy." Spike greeted his friend.  
"Hi, Spike."  
"How long you in for?"  
Bumblebee choked out a laugh. "I've got an energon line that won't seal, so I'm stuck here until Ratchet or Wheeljack can take a look."  
"Tough luck there, buddy."  
"Yeah. At least I'm awake, unlike Jazz." Bee turned his head at looked over at the table where Ratchet was working. Spike hadn't realized that the mech on the table was the happy go-lucky saboteur, but he was shocked to see Jazz's chest open and a machine with leads going to the spark chamber.  
"What happened?" Spike's tone indicated his shock.  
"He took a hit from Megatron. It was too close to his spark, and he went into spark failure. The machine is regulating the energy of his spark while Ratchet repairs the damage." Bumblebee informed him.  
"Wow. I've never seen that before."  
"It's not a common injury, Spike."  
"No, I guess not."  
Prowl entered the medbay, passing through the rows of mechs, stopping at each table or berth to exchange a few words with each mech. When he got to Bumblebee, he touched Bee's other shoulder, looking quickly down his body to the opened armour and the clamps.  
"How are you, Bumblebee?"  
"I'm really doing well, Prowl. I expect a quick recovery once the leak is repaired."  
"Good. And you, Spike, are you well?"  
"Sure, Prowl, I'm fine. Just worried about Bee, you know."  
"Yes, I understand," and Prowl looked over at Jazz. Spike shifted uncomfortably, surprised by the emotion he glimpsed in Prowl's optics. When the tactician returned his gaze to Bumblebee, however, he appeared as impartial as ever. Spike asked, "Prowl? Are you alright?"  
"I am fine, thank you."  
"You just seem…I don't know, upset I guess."  
Prowl merely looked at him. Bumblebee spoke, hesitantly, "Uh, Spike? Jazz is..special to Prowl."  
Spike looked at his friend and asked, "Special?"  
Prowl smiled, a tight little smile. "He is my other half, my sparkmate."  
Spike could feel his belief system rearranging itself to accommodate this new information. "What, like being married or something?"  
"Your marriage ceremonies are a mere shadow of what Jazz and I share." Prowl informed him.  
Spike leaned against Bumblebee in shock. "Yeah, but, uh, aren't you both guys?"  
Bumblebee chuckled, the armour plates under Spike vibrating with his mirth. "Spike, I keep telling you that we don't have gender the way you humans do."  
"Well, yeah, but…" Spike foundered, trying to assimilate this information with his preconceived ideas about the Autobots.  
Prowl took pity on him and explained, "Humans have genders for the procreating of the species. We do not have such methods of reproduction, so gender is rather meaningless to us. We can form a temporary bond with another sparkbearer to come together to create a new spark, but the bond doesn't have to last past the creation of a new spark. The type of bond that Jazz and I have is…different. It is permanent and deep. We don't often form such bonds, because it is a life-long commitment, but Jazz and I…we balance each other and we couldn't survive without the other one." Prowl looked over at the table where Ratchet, Wheeljack, and Perceptor were working on Jazz.  
Spike groped for understanding. "What, if Jazz died you'd die too?"  
Prowl returned his gaze to him. "Yes."  
At the blunt answer, Spike gazed at him in horror. "Why are you even fighting in this war and not hiding in some remote world where this war couldn't ever touch you?"  
"Because if you don't stand up for what you believe, eventually you won't be able to stand up at all. This war would have found us, and we wouldn't have the support and understanding of our fellow Autobots. If one of us is called to the Matrix, we will both go and we accept that."  
"Yeah, but Optimus would lose two officers at once! How can he allow that?"  
Prowl frowned, "Because allowing us to bond like that is why we're fighting this war. Optimus really does believe in free choice."  
Spike thought about that for a while. "OK, I guess I get that."  
"Besides, I'm not sure Optimus ever thought we'd actually going through with bonding, since we hated each other at first sight."  
Bumblebee laughed, "You and Jazz? Hated each other? No way, Prowl, not as tight as the two of you are."  
"Oh, I assure you Bumblebee, Jazz and I loathed each other and continued to do so for many vorns thereafter."  
Spike and Bee exchanged a look before Spike settled himself comfortably on Bee's chest armour.  
"Tell us the story, Prowl."  
"Please?" Spike gave the tactician his best puppy-dog eyed look.  
Prowl vented air, looking over at his mate, then back to the two eagerly awaiting his next words.  
"Fine."  
Prowl began.  
"When Jazz and I met, it was a battle much like the one we fought today – the Decepticons kept coming, and the medics were patching us up and sending us back out. I was very unsettled, as I had just returned to Optimus after two vorns undercover in a Decepticon unit, trying to understand how the 'Con army worked and what the command structure was, plus trying to understand their objectives in an attempt to end the war through diplomacy."  
"Sounds like a lot of tasks for an undercover assignment." Spike told him.  
"Perhaps, but Sentinel felt that I could do it, and Optimus carried through with Sentinel's plan after he became Prime. To continue my story, I had only returned to Prime's unit, and I didn't know anyone. Optimus had replaced almost everyone in the unit, and I felt that he was testing me now that I was back, to see if I would continue or be transferred. I was giving orders, but another mech was countermanding me, and I was getting frustrated. I finally confronted him..."  
"It was Jazz, of course," interjected Bumblebee.  
"Yes, it was, and he wouldn't back off. Optimus had to intervene and allow me to do my job. Jazz didn't forgive me for years, but we won that battle."  
Bumblebee told him, "Jazz would say that it was due to his actions up to that point."  
Prowl nodded, "Yes, he would, and his strategy was sound, but I had inside information that allowed us to do something the 'Cons did not expect and that allowed us to win. To be fair to Jazz, my orders did seem to be against the best interests of the Autobots and he was trying to rescue our forces from what he perceived as my wrong-headed ideas."  
"Betcha weren't saying that at the time, though." Spike said.  
"No, I wasn't. It really was a very poor start to our relationship."  
Bumblebee looked over at the prone saboteur thoughtfully. "Actually, Jazz holds grudges sometimes. Were you one of those cases?"  
Prowl followed his gaze and nodded. "Yes. He hated me for vorns. It was very difficult for us."  
Spike waved his hand vaguely, "How did you get from there to here?"  
"It's a long story, Spike."  
"Well, we're not going anywhere until Bee's repaired, and you're probably off-duty until Jazz is…" Spike's voice trailed off.  
"Indeed. Optimus knows that I would be worth very little at this point in time. Very well, if you have time and want to listen, I will tell you."  
Bumblebee smiled up at Prowl, "Besides, it distracts you from what's going on over there."  
"There is that, Bumblebee, there is that."


End file.
